Well, I am extremely frustrated because I typed out an entire lengthy, and incredibly witty (of course) blog post only to have it delete. Sigh. Let me try this again.

After months of living just miles away from Mexico, I finally made it across the border! I’d been wanting to go to Tijuana since my arrival in Southern California, and was ecstatic to go, especially since I haven’t been out of the US in quite some time. If you know me, you understand how antsy I get.

Our first stop was the charming Telefónica Gastro Park nestled between two buildings on Torre de Agua Caliente. One step instead takes you to a very different place compared to the surrounding run-down building. Inside, there are a handful of shiny food trucks with delicious smells wafting through the air. We arrived relatively early, so most the trucks were closed, but thankfully La Carmelita was firing away in the kitchen.

For breakfast, I chose the chilesquiles with abaco sauce and was not disappointed with the tangy dish. Each bite was complemented by a Honey Orange beer from the brewery. Yes, I said brewery! There is a mini one located inside the gastropark with an array of flavors, including Almond Joy, Mango y Coco, Vienna Cream Ale, and Coco Vanilla Stout to name a few. The woman inside was super friendly and let us sample refreshing shots of the beer before we made our final decision.

We sought refuge from the heat with the inside seating and luckily the World Cup was on as well. The décor is reminiscent of a hidden gem in Brooklyn. It was hard to believe we were in such a trendy spot when I’d just been walking down a crumbling sidewalk. With our bellies full, we made our way back into the heat. Every inch of me was covered in sweat and I laughed to see it trickling down my calves.

Our explorations took us throughout the city. We headed to a bustling market with vats of honey still fresh with bees to bins full of soaking cherries, peanut butter, and dangling piñatas overhead. Every other stand featured someone chopping up a coconut with a machete or passing out fruit covered in chili spice. Just a couple hours in and I’d probably sweated out all of the water in my body. It didn’t help that we we’d gone dancing ’til late the night before.

My watermelon obsession has not waned over the years, so I was keen to grab some at the market. I stopped by a stand where they offered a selection of different fruit and vegetable combinations blended together. It was at the market that I realized the poor state of my Spanish speaking skills and embarrassment at even trying to utter a sentence. Agua con sandia? They took a large bottle of water and blended it with watermelon leaving me with a chilly and refreshing drink.

My favorite part of traveling is the walking. I love walking and exploring all different parts of towns and cities, not just the landmarks. I love getting lost and circling back to the place and started. I especially love getting familiar with an area through this trial and error process. We walked around more, taking everything in.

Tijuana for the most part is not a glamourous city. I’d been to run down places before in foreign countries and in the US, but to see such a contrast only a few miles away was strange. The bridge we crossed over to get into the city loomed over a river of trash bags and sewage, while people slept nearby. Even inside the hustle and bustle of the city the streets aren’t any better. Open holes on the sidewalk welcome any unsuspecting pedestrian to a broken leg and garbage is a common sight encrusted to the ground. home. Like many cities in the US and around the world, San Diego also has a homeless crisis. Despite the numbness one gathers from the daily encounters of pan handles it doesn’t make seeing the children who beg alongside their parents.

There was still some beauty in the decay found in the smiles of vendors, the scents of grilled meat, and laughs at a local bar. After stumbling upon Veggie Fest at the Tijuana Cultural Center, exploring an alley way full of bars, and snacking on icy treats, we started heading back  downtown for a light lunch. Between the heat melting us and all the water we drank to cool off, our bodies were saturated, leaving little room for food. We, however, were determined to try the infamous Caesar’s on the Avenida Revolución. I had recently learned that the Caesar salad originated in Tijuana thanks to the Italian-American restaurateur Caesar Cardini.

A rush of cool air welcomed us into the dim restaurant that was air conditioned (yay) and the walls lined with the paintings of Oscar Ortega–a Tijuanan (is that a real term?) artist. We relaxed with chilled glasses of sangria while our waiter prepared a Caesar salad at our table for us, which of course, was delicious. I don’t think I can look at a Trader Joe’s Caesar salad the same way.

The return back towards the border was uneventful. I snagged a cup full of esquites (Mexican street corn off the cob) and we snapped some pictures before heading home to rinse off the sweat of Tijuana and rest our swollen feet.